The Sunshine After Thunderstorm
by monochromatic-ice
Summary: Everyday the night and the darkness are annihilated by the daylight. But despite what you may think it doesn't happen just like that. Imagine the power needed to turn around whole Earth and doing it everyday no matter what.
1. Chapter 1: Mixed emotions

**Disclaimer: _Frozen_ and all its characters are © to Disney. No profit made, no infringement intended.**

 **A/N: Great thanks for elsasolqueens!**

* * *

"This makes sense," the boy on the screen whispered ecstatically. Elsa raised her brows in disbelief and then closed her eyes.

 _No._

 _Nothing makes sense. Nothing at all. Everything is empty and shallow. No emotions. No enthusiasm. No satisfaction._ _As if my emotionality was located in this stupid leg._

 _Every new day is exactly the same as the one before. Jesus, how could that have happened?_ _ **Why**_ _did this happen? To teach me something? Or to fucking kill me, make my dreams impossible, make my life colorless, monotonous…_

 _Or maybe this happened without any particular reason? Just for fun? Yeah, it was fun, huh? To make the man in that car fall asleep so he missed the red light and then he… Then he… Fuck, then he…_

It was 3:14 AM and Elsa hadn't been able to fall asleep yet. She was sitting on a chair by her desk. Her face was visible because of the bluish glow emanating from the screen of her laptop. Her fingers were motionlessly lying near her keyboard and she was absentmindedly staring at her screen where some movie was being played, but she didn't have any idea of what was going on or what it was about. She was forcing herself to watch, wishing that this would take her mind off her tragedy or at least make her fall asleep.

But she knew one thing. _The people in this movie had two legs. Two strong, healthy, beautiful, soft, warm, and mobile legs. Able to do a vast variety of movements. Made of flesh, with nerves, muscles, skin, veins, blood, and bones. With knees, feet, and toes._

 _And the strength needed to be able to do any sport. Being able to walk long distances with_ _very_ _little fatigue._

 _And the lack of the pain and suffering while making the simplest moves._

 _And the accessibility to walk around fast, changing directions easily and effortlessly without having to fall down face first at least ten times a day. No need to exercise so hard just to be able to pretend to have two legs and walk like a_ _ **normal**_ _human being._

 _And not being fucking terrified by some illusion that there's itching or pain in the left leg. That something is touching it. Whether it be cold, warmth, or pressure. But it's all impossible because there is no such a thing as left leg for me._

Elsa sighed heavily.

The movie started to annoy her. Hot tears were running down her cheeks as she looked with envy at the protagonists' muscular thighs and calves.

 _They have normal, human legs. They are complete. Like everyone else._

 _Jesus Christ. Why do they have them both and I don't? They haven't got the slightest idea of what treasure they possess and the many possibilities they have._

 _Ughh… I hadn't had any idea about it exactly one month, three weeks and 6 days ago either. We don't appreciate the things that we have until they're gone, huh?_

 _Who would think that all I've lost weighs about 5 kg?_

 _The majority of humanity wakes up every day with it and they don't even notice it. Don't even notice it for their whole fucking life. Don't have any idea how fucking happy they should be._

 _Why do I have to know this? Why the fuck was I chosen to be enlightened about this?_

 _Why me? Just, why_ _ **me**_ _?_

Elsa felt how the sadness and envy suddenly transformed into rage. She wanted to yell as loud as she could.

 _WHAT THE FUCK HAVE I DONE!? IT MUST HAVE BEEN SOME FUCKING MISTAKE! I HAVEN'T DONE ANYTHING SO BAD TO BE PUNISHED LIKE THIS! WHY DO I HAVE TO SUFFER SO MUCH?!_

She fiercely closed her laptop. The room suddenly was lit only by the full moon. Elsa stood up rapidly. It was a very bad idea. She lost her balance and an overwhelming pain shot through her stump. She had fallen on the soft carpet that her parents had bought for her recently.

 _FUCK! WHY CAN'T I EVEN STAND UP LIKE A NORMAL PERSON!_? The emotional pain was more intense than the physical one.

She was lying on the carpet and crying quietly for a couple of minutes. She wanted to scream and hit the walls with her fists, but she couldn't wake up her parents again. They were worried enough about her without her night time outbursts.

Crying helped and she managed to calm down a little. She stood up carefully and walked slowly to her mirror.

She was dressed in her karate kimono again, in the dead of night, when no one was watching. She knew she would somehow upset her parents if they saw her dressed in it. They encouraged her every day to try and let it go, to try to forget the accident, leave it behind, as if it were as easy as putting the light out. The lack of some understanding from her parents was painful for her, but she knew they wanted the best for her and the whole situation was still a shock to them.

She needed time. She needed to say goodbye to something which used to be the most important part of her life. She didn't want to argue or defy so she pretended to "bury" all her karate stuff in a box and hide it in the wardrobe.

But during restless nights she dressed up in it and imagined she was again training on the mat. Fighting, doing kata, improving her technique, exercising, working on the boxing bag. That's what she loved. That's what she needed. That's how she expressed herself. That's what she was best at.

That's who she is. Or, actually, was.

If you saw her during her training you would say she's a professional. Not many things are as impressive as Elsa on the mat. She was fighting with a great and elaborate technique unmistakably. Nothing was able to distract her. After years of training she was able to predict moves and react without any hesitation. Blocking and attacking in the right moments. She also never neglected her physique so she was in great condition. As a result she hit, kicked, blocked and jumped so lightsomely like with no effort at all. Her moves were fast and meticulous. And she fought with great grace, not aggression.

It was art. Virtuosity made of hard work, strengh, love, determination and spirit. There was nothing surprising in the fact that she was winning competitions regularly and she was one of the best girls in the country.

Her passion and devotion was almost palpable.

And now it was all gone. If you saw her now, in her room, standing in front of her mirror, you would have difficulty believing it.

Elsa was gazing at her reflection in the mirror. Despite the fact that only her silhouette was visible in the moonlight, it was unable to hide the fact that she looked ill. She had lost a lot of weight since the accident and now the jacket was hanging on her a little and the brown belt on her waist seemed to be too long. The trousers were always loose and nothing seemed to be wrong. But if you looked closely you would see that Elsa's left foot was… just perfect. Too perfect.

 _Who the fuck am I now?_

She frowned. The (miserable in her opinion) girl in the mirror looked at her with sullen eyes and with a mix of anger and pity on her face.

 _I can hardly recognize myself. It can't be me. Who the hell is this pale, distraught, insomniac, skinny girl with bags under her eyes and this fucking piece of plastic instead of a left leg?_

 _I used to be healthy and strong_ _, didn't I? I went through much pain. I faced stronger and bigger opponents and I always fought._ _Even when my failure was certain._

 _So what the fuck happened to me?_ _Was my strength, my personality, my attitude destroyed in this… this…_

 _For goodness sake!_ _Why the fuck am I not able to face it even in my mind?_

New tears started to gather in her eyes. She gritted her teeth nervously.

 _SAY IT. FACE IT YOU HOPELESS WEAKLING. IF YOU CAN'T FACE WHAT HAPPENED HOW DO YOU WANT TO FACE THE RESULTS?_

 _JESUS._

 _ **In this… THIS FUCKING CAR CRASH WHERE THIS SLEEPING BASTARD HIT THE SIDE OF OUR CAR AND SMASHED MY LEFT LEG.**_

The sound of her heart pounding was everything she heard. Again she was crying bitterly and almost unable to breathe. Anger was burning under her skin. She was panting quietly willing to smash the mirror with her fist. Instead of it she bit her lip as hard as she could until she felt a metallic taste.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuck..." she whispered with her trembling, weak and hoarse voice.

Elsa slumped on her bed. She had lost to her emotions once again.

 _Again too weak to cope with this situation and fall asleep without_ _taking_ _this sh_ _orty_ _drugs_ _._ She reluctantly opened the drawer of her bed closet and took a small pill from its package. Then she swallowed it with a sip of water from the bottle lying next to her bed. She took a couple of deep breaths and started to undress.

Firstly the belt. She untied it carefully and put into a box. Then her jacket. She untied some strings on her waist and then slowly took it off. She folded it carefully into a perfect square and put it on top of the belt. She quickly dressed into a big T-shirt which she used as pajamas. And now the trousers, the worst part.

She gently took off her prosthesis and special stump sock. She found no pain but a strange numbness. _Christ, this is so creepy. To take off a leg before going to sleep._ She placed it near the bed and finally, with some difficulty, she took off the trousers and put them in the box with the rest of her uniform.

After cleaning her hands with moist towelettes, she started her routinely stump massage. Her face was tense with unwillingness, strange fear and sadness. She still didn't accept it completely and didn't get used to it even though 44 days had passed. Despite her being a fighter who had accidentally broken some ribs or kicked some people's noses, she was the gentle girl who was afraid of the sight of blood, wounds and injuries. Sometimes she still shivered while touching uneven surfaces of her skin where stitches had been present once.

 _Christ, Elsa. It's your own body. Yeah, what you have left of your left leg is not the most gorgeous thing in the world, but you shouldn't be disgusted._

She stood up on one leg, which was usually far easier than standing up with her artificial one, and jumped to the wardrobe where she hid the box. Then she got back into bed.

Covered with the duvet, Elsa realized that she had started to calm down and become sleepy. Too sleepy to be angry or sad. Tensed muscles begun to loosen up.

She took a couple of deep, calming breaths and closed her eyes. The warmth of the duvet was very comforting. She lay in bed for a couple of minutes absentmindedly.

Suddenly and unexpectedly she felt some kind of remorse.

 _Jesus, I shouldn't have cursed this man so badly. Maybe it was his fault. Maybe he was the one to blame. But he paid a higher price for it than I did._

 _I shouldn't have insulted the deceased._

 _I didn't lose everything. He did._

 _I shouldn't complain and bewail so much. I should be grateful and happy that I lost only one leg and that I'm still alive. I can still move on my own and do many other things. But no, it's better to cry, and resent, isn't it, Elsa?_

 _I act like a spoiled, immature kid._

 _But fuck, I lost a leg! My behavior is natural and justified. Just because some people have it worse, it doesn't mean I shouldn't be sad._

 _God, why is everything so fucking difficult?_

Elsa fell asleep. Her alarm would go off in 3 hours.


	2. Chapter 2: Day 45: Shower

**Disclaimer:** _ **Frozen**_ **and all its characters are © to Disney. No profit made, no infringement intended.**

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **1\. Great thanks** **to** **my awesome proofreaders.  
**

 **2\. Elsa in this** **fanfiction** **is almost 18 years old. She is exactly 17 and 11 months.** **The story currently takes place in April and her birthday is in May.**

 **3\. I mentioned some karate kyokushin issues. The** **y're** **are marked with * symbol. You don't have to rewrite the links, you can copy them from my bio where copying is possible.**

 *** Kumite = full-contact fight**

 *** If** **you are curious you can check out how scoring full point (called "ippon") by kick in the head (called "mawashigeri jodan") looks like (youtube watch?v=xu9BH2oM9as) but on the recording senior categories are shown. Junior's fights (below 18 years old, including Elsa) are not usually that brutal. What's more: protectors, vests and helmets are required to wear. Juniors also hardly ever fell to the ground after being kicked.**

 *** This is exactly the technique which Elsa meant – youtube watch?v=65atvLJTU5w &t=0m55s  
**

 *** Elsa** **once referred** **to** **"** **Dojo Kun** **"** **, set of rules (actually oath) taught in some karate clubs – kyokushincanada.**

* * *

 **BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!**

 _MOTHERFUCKER!_

Elsa jumped and fiercely hit the alarm clock. She sighed and slowly opened her eyes being completely exhausted. Three hours of dreamless sleep were absolutely not enough to recover, but her high school wouldn't change the hours of the classes specially for her. The school authorities don't care that she doesn't sleep enough because of her emotional condition. Elsa was glad of that fact – any special treatment would be humiliating, reminding her about her weaknesses, and the fact that she differs from other people.

Her parents had offered her private teaching at home but she refused. The proposition also made her furious as if they had insulted her very badly. It hurt, somehow, really hurt.

* * *

 **DAY 20**

"What?! **NO!** I'm not a fucking cripple!" She yelled, "I don't need this! I'm normal! I'm a fucking normal student! I'm not bed bound or sick or... Or psycho. I'm able to go to school and learn like everyone else. Don't fucking make me more disabled than I already am." She hissed. Although didn't intend to create an outburst, coping with this situation quietly was far beyond her abilities. "DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND?! I'M HEALTHY! I JUST DON'T HAVE REAL LEFT LEG! I AM **ABLE TO WALK** , SO I **CAN GO** TO SCHOOL. I **CAN** LIVE LIKE A NORMAL PERSON, ALTHOUGH I CAN'T WALK AND MOVE EXACTLY LIKE ONE." She burst into tears and clumsily fled to her room. It was the sixth day from getting the prosthesis.

Elsa slumped on her bed and started screaming like mad into a pillow, hitting the mattress furiously. The truth was that she'd love to have private teaching, but she couldn't admit it in front of her parents or even herself. Honestly, Elsa would love to stay at home. With no need to walk through crowded corridors and being ashamed of forcing her friends to walk slower than usual. Without glances at school as if she was an interesting animal.

She was totally ashamed of her gait and her prosthesis – how the sleeve of her trousers was loose and had an unnatural, strange shape. She had never dared to wear shorts even when it was getting warmer due to summer approaching. Elsa didn't want anyone to see it. It was very embarrassing for her. Oppressive. Annoying. Depressing. However, she knew that despite sitting at home would be definitely more comfortable, she undoubtedly would feel much worse. Although her body was invalid, her spirit was definitely not.

Her parents never mentioned it again and she didn't ask for it despite sometimes wanting to.

* * *

The girl stretched lingeringly on her bed.

 _So, day 45 has just begun. I'm tired as hell and I don't wanna fucking go. But I will. Damn, I would go even without both legs and both arms. That's the good way to deal with it even though school is hard._

Elsa sat on her bed and yawned. The whole room was still blurry for her because she had problems with keeping eyes open. The pills made sleeping easier, but waking more difficult. It was exasperating. She loathed using drugs, being under influence of them and, and most of all, being forced to be dependent on something as ridiculous like some substance.

 _Stand up! Who decides what you do? The pill or you? Are you just losing_ _to_ _a couple of milligrams while around three months ago you beaten up 75 kg girl without much effort?_

She rubbed her eyes and blinked rapidly several times. Then stood up on one leg and took a fresh, perfectly white and clean stump sock and towel. The special sock made of flexible material was required to maintain proper shape of muscles and protects from scrapes while wearing prosthesis. It also is to be changed everyday and put off for night.

Every morning Elsa has to wash her stump meticulously with antiseptic gel and massage it, which she does during shower before school.

The girl liked showering very much and considered it as good start of the day even though she had to take care about her residual limb. For her, showers connotes satisfaction and pleasant tiredness after karate practice or competition. She also loved the feeling of freshness.

Her father had installed a small chair inside of the shower cabin to make washing more comfortable and convenient for Elsa, but she used it only when it was unavoidable. She preferred to stand even it was a bit fatiguing and difficult.

She locked herself in the bathroom, put the towel and the sock on a washbasin, sat on the toilet, took the pyjamas off and then jumped into the shower cabin. Staying undressed, Elsa turned on the water. The warmth of it started to relax her. She remained like that for about two minutes and then sat down to wash herself without risking losing balance.

 _Ok, first off, the care._ She squeezed some antiseptic gel on her hands and started to wash the stump.

 _It was here like a minute ago._ Her eyes were laid on the nothingness under the residual limb. _I washed it after practice. That day I_ _wore_ _the_ _most worn-out_ _karate trousers with a little hole on right sleeve,_ _and had on blue socks with my black sneakers. I also had vanilla shower gel which smelled so nice I barely_ _resisted the_ _temptation not to eat it. The water in the dojo was pretty cold again, but I found it nice because I had been overheated after interval exercises._

The memory of details from her previous training were prominent probably because it was her last training _ever_. It was draining, individual training before the third World Championship in her life. After two failures she was as eager as ever to win so she literally practiced as much as possible.

The left leg was absolutely essential to win and not only because of obvious reasons. For karate competitions in kumite*, one has to score two points to win before the timeout. If no one receives this amount of points before the timeout, the one with higher score wins. One of the ways to score a full point is to simply kick the opponent in the head.* The underage competitors wear helmets made of a special kind of sponge and it's usually hard for teenage karate fighters to kick so high with great power, so receiving a point is often just patting opponent's helmet. The kick has to be done very fast and skillfully. Elsa had no problems with scoring points this way due to being flexible and fit, but she definitely preferred to perform this technique with her left leg since she's left-handed. Hence, the left leg was far more better trained in this technique and it was indeed fundamental in winning. It was Elsa's main weapon.

 _God._ She closed her eyes for a couple of seconds. _I hadn't had the idea that I would be able to recreate how exactly it looked like. The hue of my skin. The baby pink and the shape of my toe nails. The slight curvature of my big toe which was broken two years ago. The little bruises on the shanks – souvenirs from every fight. Scar on the calf – after falling from my first bicycle. And_ _it was about time to depilate which_ _I was planning to do the next day. But the next day I was_ _in_ _a hospital bed._

She bit her lip.

 _Christ, Elsa, for heaven's sake! Are you able to not think about the leg and getting depressed just for one day? One fucking day?_

 _One day without getting depressed and losing myself_ _..._ _I reckon I can do it._

 _Thinking about the leg makes me depressed. Today I don't care about the leg. Let's think about something else. Something that cheers me up._

 _Okay then, let's ponder about the arms. Arms are cool and this is a happy topic. I'm proud of them._ She thought as she started washing them with shower gel. _These arms had done millions of push ups and hoists on a bar_ _, h_ _it and blocked billions of times. Arms that after years of practice were able to perfectly knock an opponent out by hitting exactly into the solar plexus, liver or kidney when they went off guard even for just a split second._

 _I think they are able to hit about 4 times in a second._ Elsa, in order to be sure of that fact, hit rapidly several times into the air and smiled gently. Her technique was still excellent. _Maybe even 5 or 6 times when I accelerate._

 _Yeah, they are amazing arms that have shown the truth to a decent amount of stupid boys when they dared to admit that girls are weak or suck in karate._ She smirked.

 _Quite muscular arms that some girls found sexy and liked them even more when they caressed them._

 _Nimble arms able to do perfectly hundreds of advanced, impressive techniques._

The girl stood up and started to doodle herself on steamy door of the shower cabin. The drawn Elsa was dressed in kimono and was in position called kokutsu dachi, doing a block called shuto.*

She stared at the drawing for a couple of seconds and wiped it all of a sudden. Her tiny smile morphed into wince.

 _Huh, this drawn karate-me has just vanished like the real one. Just one move, one second was required to take her away from this world. She disappeared just like that. Hundreds times faster than she appeared. I was drawing her for much longer th_ _a_ _n wiping._

 _Hmm... similarly my left leg was growing and it's muscles had been developed non_ _-_ _stop for almost 18 years._

 _Fucking 18 years._

 _And how the fuck much time did it take to cut it? A couple of seconds. One movement of an electric saw._

 _But, wait… how much did it take to destroy it so badly it was impossible to rescue?_

 _ONE. FUCKING. MOMENT. EVEN LESS THAN A SECOND._

 _It's ironic, it's just ridiculous, surreal…_

 _Unfair. Illogical. Incomprehensible._

 _Real life shouldn't be similar to fucking playing with steam on a shower door, though drawn-me was similar to me._

 _All that_ _was_ _left of her is a couple drops of water on my hand. Her whole being has fucking vanished. Her arms too._

Elsa felt mournful while just a moment ago she was pretty cheerful due to pride and some fulfillment. Now, a couple of unwanted tears were flowing through her cheeks and she sniffled angrily.

 _How the fuck can I be content with these arms when I won't use them in a way that make me satisfied and happy? Yeah, I can do push ups, hoists on the bar, practice hand techniques… et cetera… et cetera..._

 _But what for?_

 _These arms won't do great job on the mat anymore. Won't smite some overly manly individuals._

 _Actually, these arms are worthless now. They could have also been amputated and everything would be exactly the same._

 _Uhh, what…?_

Elsa gritted her teeth forcefully.

 _Jesus, what did I just think about?_

 _Mother of God, help_ _._ _I'm becoming mad._

"Shiiiit..." she hissed clenching her fists then sharply rubbed the tears on her cheek.

 _It fucking can't go on like this. I'm sick of it. And I'm simply tired of all this grief, all these insane thoughts... I've had enough of this. I need a break, a change… Fuck, I need some sort of solution, salvation… I don't fucking know what exactly I need, but… No, wait, there is exactly one thing I desperately need. I need my left leg back. That's what I fucking need. For the fucking postman to come, 'knock knock', and when_ _I_ _open the door I_ _'ll_ _hear, "Hello! I have good news for you, ma'am! It was actually a mistake! In this box is your left leg, you just have to sign this paper."_

 _Jesus Christ, how creepy is this situation? But it's all fucking creepy. I look creepy. Prosthesis is creepy. My way of walking it's creepy. Fuuck! How much I hate this creepiness!_

 _Goddamnit, Elsa, calm down!_

The girl slowly sat down, took a very deep breath, and started counting to ten while exhaling slowly. She repeated it a couple of times, cleaned her nose and washed her face.

 _My goal today was to not get depressed and lose myself, wasn't it?_

 _And I failed. I failed about three minutes later. How pathetic is that?. But… but never mind. Let's try again. It would be very good if I succeed in recollecting myself quickly._

 _And it'd_ _also be as_ _good as that if I start to look for a real solution. Dwelling on memories, analyzing and imagining some preposterous bullshit, bewailing, hating the stump, maintaining that "nothing can help me and nothing can be done" attitude, and other other moronic behaviour won't make things better. Despite the fact that I have right to be depressed, I have to try not to be._

 _Frequently losing myself is also disobedience of dojo kun. Where the hell is my firm,_ _unshaken_ _spirit?* This is the part of karate I can still practice. I have to fight this despair. That's how sensei taught me, to fight no matter what. To always stand up after a fall. A lack of a leg is no excuse._

 _He also told me to always see the brighter s_ _ide_ _of life. He didn't want me to obey these rules only on trainings or competitions, but all the time_ _-_ _t_ _o have these rules in my heart. He'd be disappointed with me now._

 _He always repeated,_ _"T_ _hat as long as we breath and our hearts beat, we have to fight_ _"_ _. There is always something we can do. No exceptions._

 _I have to fight. I have to look for some real solutions to my problems as soon as possible._

 _So, then…_

 _Shit._

 _Why the hell couldn't I be a runner? Or a climber? They have special prosthesis for their sports._

Elsa's parents had suggested starting these sports at some time and she had been considering it. However, she had drawn the conclusion that some simple, non complex sports based on same sets of movements wouldn't satisfy her. Karate can't be replaced by such sports.

Karate can't be really replaced at all. Like a leg.

 _Some people deal with their amputations so quickly because their whole world wasn't closely associated with movement much more sophisticated than walking or these sports._

 _There are no special prosthesis for martial arts. And I don't think some will be invented in, like, at least 50 years._

 _Christ, this is gonna to be the hardest and longest fight in my entire life but it's worth the effort. Fighting for the mental freedom and happiness is fucking always worth every effort._

 _Since I have no idea what a solution could be, let's think of what definitely isn't one._

 _From my own experienc_ _e,_ _I learned that not thinking about the leg_ _wouldn't_ _help anyway. It's_ _not all about the leg_ _. Or arms._

 _It's about… actually, everything. Everything connected to me, my life, my experiences, my memories, my habits, my emotions, my way of thinking and my connotations._

 _Almost every single aspect of my life._

 _Time. The millions of hours I have spent on trainings and competitions._

 _Emotions. My pride, love, determination, devotion, satisfaction, happiness._

 _The people I have met and I've made relationships with. Sensei - he used to be like family for me. My friends_ _,_ _m_ _y ex_ _-_ _girlfriends_ _, and l_ _ots of acquaintances from other clubs._

 _Material goods. The hard work of my parents. The money they spent on my trainings, gear, and gas to drive me to competitions in all country and sometimes abroad. The photos. The cups and medals._

 _It all reminds me about karate and how I have spent my whole free time in last 11 years._

 _It's impossible to just wipe it all out like a drawing on the steam on the door. Or cut it like my leg that was cut in fucking one couple-hours of surgery. It's like I have to get rid of a vast part of my life. Or a considerable piece of my soul, memory… I don't know._

 _It's not changing the shape of my body_ _, it_ _'s changing and actually deforming my psyche._

 _My recovery is not about getting used to walking with prosthesis_ _, but_ _It's learning how to live from the beginning._

 _So, actually, what can I do?_

"Elsa! Elsaa!" The girl got a scare and jumped on her chair. Her mom was knocking the door. "Have you again been contemplating deeply?" The woman asked slightly irritated "You will be late for school!"

"Uh… Yeah, mom, I will be ready in a moment" Elsa felt a little exasperated that someone interrupted her in important ruminations which were meant to change her life.

 _I can finally finish the shower and have a nice day at school._

 _But about my predicament. Actually… The truth is: I can't be recovered in any way. I had already stated this. This and the fact that there is always something I can do and I have to fight. Shit, that's another fucking conflict. As always actually, no surprise at all._

 _Damn life._

Elsa stood motionlessly with unseeing gaze. Suddenly the void in her head was heavy and unpleasant. The empty silence was somehow suffocating.

The girl closed her eyes and was just about to sob again when she opened them rapidly as if unexpectedly jabbed by a needle.

 _Wait… it can't be recovered in any way… but there is always something that can be done…_

 _It wasn't said that the thing which can be done has to be easy, nice, pleasant and beautiful._

 _FUCK!_

 _THAT WAS SO OBVIOUS. CHRIST, I'M A BLIND IDIOT._

 _I SHOULD HAVE COME UP WITH AND UNDERSTOOD IT MUCH EARLIER._

 _Really, I should have fucking learned from my own experience._

 _I couldn't see the answer because my eyes were wet from tears. But now I see. I fucking see it, crystal clear!_

 _I should have comprehended it much earlier because I've already been in a situation where I couldn't have been recovered in any way._

 _And some moronically simple resolution had been found. Moronically simple as using a saw._

 _That's what I can do when nothing more can be done. Cut. Actually I have to try to cut off vast part of my life, past, soul or whatever it is._

 _Like my parents had advised me,_ _t_ _hough, it couldn't be done immediately as they insisted. I had to_ _go_ _through the sorrow with something familiar and important to me like karate because I'd probably have a much worse nervous breakdown and commit suicide._

 _But even though I miss it all so much it's ruining me twenty_ _-_ _four_ _seven._

Elsa clenched her lips.

 _The end has to be put on to this anguish. Karate stuff has already stopped kind of helping me some time ago._

 _From tomorrow I'm starting real rehab. Detox. Withdrawal. I don't fucking know what to call it._

 _But tomorrow I'm letting go of karate indeed. I'm… I'm amputating it._

 _Though I've always criticized procrastinating, but here I must make an exception. I have to clean the laptop from all videos, photos_ _..._ _everything connected to karate. I will copy this to the USB key and put it into the box with gear and tape it. And I have to go to the… the basement._ _One l_ _ast time_ _t_ _o say goodbye._ _Then I'll_ _leave the box with gear there and lock it. The key will go to my parents. No way back._

 _I have to finally do it because I have to do something_ _,_ _and this is the only thing I've come up with. It may help, who knows._

Elsa felt slightly scared and worried despite her determination.

 _It'd be fucking agonizing._

 _But… the truth is, I'd be suffering either I do that or not. It's worth a try, I won't experience more pain then I haven't already._

 _Ughh… But it's an afternoon task. Let's focus on the morning. A_ _g_ _ood morning of high spirits when I won't lose myself._

 _I'll_ _surely lose myself in the evening, but in the morning I will be totally fine. I fucking have to_ _,_ _a_ _t least try to be._

"Elsa! Are you okay there?" She heard the deep, worried voice of her father with a hardly audible knocking. "You have spent half an hour there. Everything alright? And are you going to school?"

"Yeah, dad, I'm leaving and everything's perfectly fine. Gimme a couple of minutes."

She jumped from the cabin and started to dry herself. She forced herself to shove the afternoon task to the depths of her consciousness.

 _Today, forenoon and early afternoon are gonna be fine._ _It's going to be a_ _g_ _ood time. I won't lose myself for the fourth or fifth time this day. I will won with my pathetic sadness. After all I have reasons not to be sad, don't I?_

 _I'm alive. My brain wasn't damaged in any way: I can think and analyze without effort or problems and that's absolutely amazing, isn't it? I also have two awesome arms, one awesome leg and one... one nice prosthesis… And what's the most important and precious, I have whole life before me._

The girl wasn't really convinced by herself, but despite this she started to be slightly excited by the fact that she was going to school. Regardless of all downsides, she was going to meet her best friends. Some tests will probably be given back and she knows she will get very good grades. Elsa was very ambitious and hard-working, and despite the accident she didn't have much problems with learning because she could focus on school stuff to distract her about her loss. Actually, her grades significantly improved because she learned exactly at time when karate practice used to be not knowing what to do with this time and willing to spend it somehow usefully.

After wiping the steam from the mirror, she brushed her platinum blonde hair and made a loose braid of it. After that, she roll herself again in a towel and hopped to her room.

Six minutes later, she was slowly going downstairs with her school bag on her shoulder.


End file.
